


The Girl, Signing Off

by Fame_Is_Now_Injectable (DaisukiRose)



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Album), My Chemical Romance, The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Comic)
Genre: Actually very cute/bittersweet, Character Death, Gen, Not Really Character Death, Sing Doesn't Exist, Slaughtermatic Sounds, The Girl is rather old, WKIL Radio, Year 2079
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-10
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-10-02 07:19:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10212398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaisukiRose/pseuds/Fame_Is_Now_Injectable
Summary: The year is 2079, and I can honestly say that the zones hold no more surprises. The draculoids move in a pattern, the motorbabies are all the same, and the radio station still pumps out the same slaughtermatic sounds that it did when I was growing up. Jet Star told me that Dr. Death Defying had ran the radio station for as long as he could remember, and when he returned to the Phoenix Witch, Show Pony and I ran it. That was after the Killjoys were exterminated by the dracs, naturally, and I had been on my own for a few years by then. Nineteen year old motorbabies don’t usually survive the zones alone, but I was never alone. I had Show Pony, I had the wind and the sand and the Joshua trees. You were never alone, if you really looked.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [Killjoys_Meme_2017](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Killjoys_Meme_2017) collection. 



> I took some liberties with this prompt.  
> That being said, if the person who requested the prompt doesn't like what I did, feel free to tell me. It was an anonymous prompt though, so there's that.
> 
> ANYWHO  
> I'm rather proud of this! I hope you enjoy it, as I had a lot of fun writing it. :)

I have seen it all.

The year is 2079, and I can honestly say that the zones hold no more surprises. The draculoids move in a pattern, the motorbabies are all the same, and the radio station still pumps out the same slaughtermatic sounds that it did when I was growing up. Jet Star told me that Dr. Death Defying had ran the radio station for as long as he could remember, and when he returned to the Phoenix Witch, Show Pony and I ran it. That was after the Killjoys were exterminated by the dracs, naturally, and I had been on my own for a few years by then. Nineteen year old motorbabies don’t usually survive the zones alone, but I was never alone. I had Show Pony, I had the wind and the sand and the Joshua trees. You were never alone, if you really looked. 

When the Killjoys were ghosted, I was barely knee-high to the Phoenix Witch, but it was just another setback. I still wear Jet Star’s jacket, though, if only as a reminder of where I came from and who I’ve become. The sleeves have long-since ripped and frayed, and every time a new tear opens up, it gets patched with bits of the other jackets. I kept them all. 

But now, even Show Pony was gone, disappeared into the desert and probably claimed by The Phoenix Witch. I prayed to Destroya for him every night anyways, leaving burnt-out wires and bits of scrap fabric on the altar out back. I used to think he took what I laid out, but I knew better now. The wind just blew it away. It had become a habit, though, and I continued to do it. He may not have come back, but Vaya and Vamos came through every once in awhile, decorating my station with their crazy colours and new objects. It was always milkshakes to see them, but they hadn’t been by in almost a month. I should be seeing them again in the next week or two.

The battery in Dr. D’s old wheelchair had died yesterday, and I was trying to get it to take a charge while I sat behind the desk of the radio station, rubbing my bum knee tenderly as I waited for the song to end, for it to be my turn. I ran my hands through my hair – It had turned grey years ago, but I had all sorts of stockpiled Dr. Phizzles hair dyes in back, so it never showed through. It was purple today, a deep violet that I had made by mixing the bottoms of three different boxes, and was quite proud of. The song finally faded out, the last of the guitars ringing into the cool night air as I clicked my microphone back on. “Look alive, dust angels,” My voice scratches through the mic, and I clear my throat. “I got the four and double ones on the Wanderer’s position, they’ll be back in the zones by the next time you open your sleepy little eyes. By the time Destroya’s sun is high, you’ll hear the banging and clanging of their bells and shells as their blessed little feet swing through the sand again. Salt and shells for all! They’re heading for zone 3, fly free, be respectful, they’re sentimental and sure as the stars in the sky will leave as soon as you get rowdy. In the meantime, heads up! Keep your boots tight, there’s gonna be a wave of dracs through zone 3 tomorrow morning, if they’re following the master plan. The moon’s riding the Witch’s wingspan, and so is this next song. Killjoys, make some noise.” 

The button on the switchboard clicks over as I switch off my mic, and another song plays. Not Mad Gear, never Mad Gear. I wasn’t going to dishonor Dr. D that way, wasn’t going to taint WKIL’s airwaves. I still have no clue what he had against Mad Gear and Missile Kid, but whatever it was, it was strong enough that I never heard them from anyone but Fun Ghoul for the first nineteen years of my precious little life. I never liked them much, anyways. After their show got popped and 35 of the best zonerunners I know got ghosted by a surprise crowd of dracs, I haven’t been able to shake the bad taste in my mouth when they’re mentioned. Ghoul never was the same. 

Even now, as I sit and pick on the fraying patches on my jacket, I can hear their ghosts sliding over the sand. That’s when you know the Phoenix Witch is close, is when you can hear the killjoys you know are dead, trying to reach out from their graves and tell you that it’ll be okay. If I counted right, I’m almost 80 years old, which is totally unheard of for a zonerunner, and I should be happy. I’m the last true killjoy from the original gang, but I’ve passed on what I know to so many other motorbabies that I eventually lost count. I knew the radio station would be in good hands when I finally ghosted, though. Atomic Candy was a smart motorbaby, orphaned young and left on my doorstep, and she’s been able to run the radio since before she could talk. Her brother (not that they were related, but he’s been here forever) Lithium Angel would be around, as always, doing whatever it was that he did when I wasn’t in the room. I mean, come on. Nobody spends that much time reshelving Power Pup…

BLI never really did die, though. They weren’t nearly as dangerous as they were when I was a kid, but we never could overthrow them. I can’t say I know how they kept it together after the last time Ghoul and Mad Gear bombed the wall and let some of the people from the Lobby free, but they managed to do it somehow. Every once in awhile, if you get close enough to the wall, you can see the stained skeletons of the dracs ghosted in the attack, simply because they were never taken care of afterwards. It’s shameful, but then again, they did work for BLI/nd. I’ve seen Ritalin rats taking bones from the piles to do Destroya knows what with them. I’m not sure I even want to know.

The next song fades out and I click my mic on again. “Dealio, motorbabies,” I drawl back through the mic, flipping through my collection of music to pick the next song. “Right before your very eyes, as the Girl herself appears with the shiniest of surprises. The bag is open, the cat has jumped out, and from zone to zone, you won’t want to roll without it. Stop! Listen. Thump, thump, thump. You feel that? My blessed little heart is beating so hard with excitement I could just about taste my blood. Yes, I mean to be smug when I say I got the musical wonderdrug that’ll make you wonder how you dug anything else. What’s new is old, what’s old is new, I got somethin’ called Green Day for you. Yes, straight from beyond the zones, back from when your grandfathers and great-grandfathers walked the nitty gritty city that was the L-of-A, this band is a real treat! It’s all for you, true black and blue. Listen up! The Girl’s gonna help you forget the world for awhile, starting… now.” I clicked the button, leaning back and sighing. Had I just recycled one of Dr. D’s speeches? Damn straight. He was brilliant with words.

I could hear Atomic Candy and Lithium Angel arguing about something in the back of the station, and reached for an air horn I’d bought last time the traders came by, blowing it loudly with a wicked grin. “Candy! Lithium! What in the world are you yelling about?”

They quieted down instantly, and then a green-framed face popped around the corner. “Um, nothing, Ma.” Atomic Candy grinned. “I just ghosted a drac and he didn’t want me to tell you what happened.”

“You fuckin’ moldy blanket fucker, I told you to be quiet!” Lithium grumbled from behind her, his electric-blue hair sticking straight up on end, a big patch of it burnt off. He tried to cover it with his hands the moment he saw my eyes stretch wide. “Don’t. Laugh.” He grumbled.

What can I say? I laughed. “Did… Did Candy shoot your hair?” I managed, wincing as a pain shot through my ribs as I tried to right myself.

“She did.” Lithium felt his hair. “Drac was behind me.”

“Go have Vinyl clear that up, yeah? Maybe keep it that way, it’d be a shiny new fashion statement.” I snickered, thin fingers brushing through my own hair.

“Shut up,” He mumbled, hands in his pockets and hood over his head as he shuffled out of the room. I shook my head after him, just smiling for a moment before turning back to Atomic Candy.

“You wanna take over the radio for a beat?” I asked. “I think D’s chair is charged enough to get me outside, I just wanna see the stars.”

“Of course, Ma.” She smiled as I unplugged the chair and moved out of her way. “Nothing’s changed?”

“Does it ever?” I reply tiredly, rolling down the ramp and towards the door. It had been blown off its hinges last time Vaya and Vamos came through, and I’d never properly fixed it. Now, it was just held on by three screws and an old length of twine, as well as Lithium’s constant awe that I can build anything with a piece of string. I think I only learned how to do it to confuse the Witch out of Lithium. 

The stars were beautiful. They weren’t really stars and every zone-born knew it, but calling them satellites seemed detached and bitter. They were arranged into the shapes of the original stars, anyways, with some fading out and plummeting to earth every so often and setting the sky out of alignment. The constellation Orion was straight overhead, his bow poised, one of the belt sattelites gone, and I swore I saw him wink at me. I could hear the Phoenix Witch’s little feet ghosting over the sand, closer and closer by the minute. I knew I wasn’t going to last long, I’d known since Show Pony had disappeared that I wouldn’t last much longer. This summer would be my last. No matter how many times I’d told Lithium and Candy, they wouldn’t believe me, just blocked it out and pretended I was here to stay. Hell, I’d done the same thing with the Killjoys. The last one that left me, Kobra Kid, he and I would sit up late at night, fooling ourselves with the idea that Party, Ghoul, and Jet were just out on another run, that they’d be back in a day or two, even though I had Jet’s bandanna around my neck and Party’s mask in my bag. I think we just forgot that their death was real. Of course, that only lasted until Kobra died. He was hurting, I knew he was, and he ran off drunk on Angel Juice, and I never saw him again. Dr. D radioed through a few days later that he’d been found somewhere near zone 4, with a buzzard on his chest. Third level of acceptable death. 

I know I’d almost reached the first acceptable level of death, and the fact that that didn’t bother me was what really stuck. I wasn’t afraid of the Phoenix Witch – I could still hear Party in the back of my head, huge smile on his face as he boasted to us that “The Phoenix Witch is real, she sucked my dick once behind Hyper-Thrust.” Which, okay, was not true. We all knew it was Ghoul, but that was besides the point. 

Staring up at the stars, no – Satellites, because that’s what they were. Staring up at the satellites, I was completely at peace for the first time in a long time. The dracs didn’t scare me, the radiation didn’t scare me, the thought of leaving didn’t scare me. I was finally one with the desert, and that’s the way every life ended. “Hey. Girl.” A smiling, youthful voice spoke behind me. “You’re so old! How long’s it been?”

I turned in my chair to be met by midnight black hair and a telltale smirk, hazel eyes grinning back at me in the dark. The man was wearing an olive green vest, very similar to the one that made up the left side of my jacket… “Ghoul?” I whispered in awe, my voice cracking as I coughed.

“Yeah, punk, the one and only.” He smiled softly, reaching a hand out and running it through my hair. “Purple fro, huh? Nice. Party and Jet will both approve.”

“Party? Jet?” I stammered. “They’re alive too?”

“Um.” Ghoul said, smile breaking momentarily. “Girl, you’re… Fuck. I hate this part. You’re dying, Girl.” 

“I know.” I replied, looking back out towards the satellites. “The stars are pretty tonight.”

“Yeah.” He said, looking up with me. “Yeah, they are. You still call them stars?”

“Don’t wanna let the word die.” I said softly, even the quietest noises echoing in the night. “It’s too pretty of a word to die.”

“You’re too pretty of a Girl to die.” Fun Ghoul echoed, and when I looked up, he refused to meet my eyes. 

“Nah, I’ve been in the desert a long time.” I assured him. “If it’s my time, it’s my time. The Phoenix Witch knows what’s right.”

“She’s a tough motherfucker,” Ghoul mumbled quietly before coughing. “Okay, shit. Uhm… You ready?”

“What, to die?”

He rubbed a hand over his face. “I prefer to think of it as living freely.”

I laughed. “I’ve been ready for years, Ghoul. Let’s go.”

He finally looked back down at me, smiling easily and taking my hand. “Okie dokie. Let’s go, Girly.”

I hopped out of my chair, literally hopped, and my short legs hit the ground. I smiled back up at Ghoul, who looked down at me and shook his head, smiling. “You’re back to being, what – Like 14?”

“Shut up, you’re not much older. You were a hell of a lot older than 18 when you died and we both know it.” I rolled my eyes, and he laughed as he shook my hand.

“Okay, girl, whatever you say. Let’s go.”

The sand squeaked under our shoes as we walked on towards the horizon, towards the first star that rose in the morning. Somewhere, distantly, I could hear a scream in the back of my mind, someone yelling my name, but it wasn’t important. Nothing really was, except the sand under my boots and Ghoul’s hand in mine.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are the air in my lungs and the blood in my veins!  
> Follow me on twitter @daisukirose  
> ~xosparrow


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